Chapter 5 — My Nameless Occupation

“Have you finished the preparations yet?” I asked, phrasing each word with deliberate, chilling calm. There was no trace of interrogation in my tone—it was merely a casual inquiry. Yet, his expression flickered, betraying a sudden tremor of unease.

“That is the concern of the respective departments,” he snapped, regaining his composure. “There is no need for you to trouble yourself with it.”

“Very well, then.”

Lam Vy stepped out of the elevator, a stack of files clutched in her arms. “Sister To, please sign here.”

I walked over, accepted the documents, and scrawled my signature. As I finished and moved toward the corridor, I passed the marketing department office. From behind the door, the loud, harried voice of Manager Trieu cut through the air.

“I don’t care how you coordinate these things! We still haven’t finalized the venue for next Wednesday’s press conference—do you realize that? When To Van was here, she had everything settled a month in advance. And now? Does no one in administration manage these things anymore?”

I didn’t break my stride. By the time I reached the elevator bank, I ran into Sister Lu, who caught my arm and pulled me aside.

“To Van, whatever you do, do not agree to come back.”

“What do you mean?”

“Yesterday, CEO Ha spoke privately with Lam Vy. He wants to invite you back, but Chu Han won’t have it. He threatened that if the CEO insisted on bringing you back, he would resign on the spot.”

“And so?”

“So the CEO is wavering. Between a Deputy General Manager with a million-yuan salary and an administrative specialist earning a mere hundred and forty thousand, he’s weighing his options.”

I pressed the elevator button. “Sister Lu, rest easy. I’m not going back.”

As the elevator doors began to slide shut, I caught a glimpse of Chu Han standing at the end of the hall. He was watching me. His expression was not that of a man looking at a fired subordinate; he looked like someone staring at a mountain of trouble.

Chapter 7

Back home, I reached a decision. I picked up my phone and dialed Tham Dich.

“Miss To?”

“Director Tham, I have considered your proposal.”

“Oh?”

“I accept. However, one of the clauses needs adjusting.”

“I’m listening.”

“The profit-sharing percentage should not begin at two million, but at one million. I have complete confidence in my solutions; the startup phase will not take nearly as long as you anticipate.”

There was a silence on the other end for several seconds.

“Agreed.”

“Furthermore, I have already secured our first client.”

“Who is it?”

“Hang Vien Corporation.”

The silence that followed was even longer than the first. “Miss To, you aren’t joking, are you? You just walked out of that place.”

“Precisely because I just left, I am the person who understands their problems better than anyone. Besides, they are desperate for an outside consultancy to come in and clean up the wreckage. I won’t be the face of this, however—your team can step forward, while I formulate the strategy from the shadows.”

“…Miss To, you really are quite ruthless.”

“It’s not ruthlessness. It’s professionalism.”

After hanging up, I opened my laptop and began to draft the proposal: *Diagnosis and Restructuring Plan for the Hang Vien Corporation Operational System.* Others might need three months of site surveys to write this, but I only needed three days. After all, I was the one who built that system from the ground up.

The following afternoon, while I was deep into my writing, the doorbell rang. I went to open it. Standing there was a man in his fifties with greying hair, carrying a bag of fruit. It was Ha Kien Quoc, the General Manager of Hang Vien Corporation.

“To Van, I apologize for the intrusion.”

“Director Ha.”

“Do you know why I am here?”

I ushered him inside and sat him down, pouring him a cup of tea.

“Director Ha, you are here to ask me to return.”

“That is correct.”

“I will not be coming back.”

He picked up the teacup but did not drink. “To Van, before I came, I knew you would say that. But I still wanted to speak with you in person. You spent twelve years at the company; I had no idea you were carrying such a heavy load.”

“Director Ha, it is true—you really had no idea.”

“That was my failing.”

“That was a failure of management.”

He offered a bitter, weary smile.